


Fourth of July- Songfic

by emmeeoz



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fourth of July, Gay, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Songfic, Summer of Like, Sweet Little Dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 18:06:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4272948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmeeoz/pseuds/emmeeoz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete's past comes back to haunt him, and Mikey finally makes peace with his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fourth of July- Songfic

Mikey’s eyes were beyond the simple explanation of “red”. Mikey’s eyes were somewhere between pink eye and Frank’s during one of his many colds. He was standing in the middle of the waiting room, Gerard holding him as his bouts of crying came in waves. His phone was still clenched in his fist from the call. Meagan was sitting in the corner, speaking quietly and nervously into her phone. Mikey didn't know why she wasn't shaking or crying the way he was, but everyone handled these situations differently.  
 **FIVE HOURS BEFORE**  
Sitting in the corner of the bathroom, Pete stared across the floor at the bottle of pills. He was tempted to swallow them all. Whoever said that this feeling was beautiful could shove it up their ass. He was fine, though. He’d prove it. He’d get up and write, make himself useful. He stood, ignoring his shaking, and pressed on. He walked to the kitchen and fixed himself a drink, then sat in the living room with a note pad. He wrote out the simple words, “I miss you.” What the fuck, he wasn’t in Blink. Fine. He scribbled through the words. I miss you… I miss you in the June gloom.That was good. He wrote it down. June… July.  
The Fourth of July.  
 **TEN YEARS BEFORE**  
“Pete!” Mikey was standing outside the Fall Out Boy bus, waving a sparkler carelessly until he realized what a bad idea that was and his arm shifted in front of his chest. Pete jogged over as Mikey trashed the burnt out stick. He grinned, taking his hand. The rest of the My Chem guys were spending their night off at some party, but Mikey had decided to hang back; y’know, to “catch up on some stuff”.   
Right now, however, he was dragging Pete back onto his band’s bus, instructing Pete to shut the door, pulling him along to the bunks, and kissing him with a secret urgency. Pete returned the kiss, pressing him against the doorframe.  
It had been like this, secret and on fucking fire, for the entirety of Warped Tour to this point. They undressed, fucked, and still managed to be friends. It wasn’t like it was revolutionary, but Pete still found it amazing. It was like happily ever after, but below the waist.  
Now their bodies were locked, moving together to the bed. In the bed. Tonight would pass quickly.  
~~~~~  
Pete heard a far off crack from outside the bus. He lifted the curtain a bit and smiled. Fireworks. He nudged Mikey and gestured for him to look. They laid together, hand in hand, and watch the bursts of light glitter in the sky. When the show finished, Pete mumbled “was good. Mikes?”  
“Hm?” Mikey looked over at him.  
“Ever been to Versailles?”  
“Um… no. Why?”  
“They do these… these firework shows, sometimes. They’re absolutely spectacular.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Mhm. And… I dunno why I’m saying this, but I think I like these ones better.”  
 **FOUR HOURS BEFORE**  
Pete laughed harshly. It wasn't his fault. His... Mikey's. Pete swore it was his own fault for letting what they had get away. He tapped his pen against his chin as he thought of ways to phrase what he wanted to say. He tried to ignore his phone on the coffee table, nagging at his peripheral vision. He wanted answers. This night wasn't going to end well.  
 **THREE HOURS BEFORE**  
Mikey was fiddling around in the studio when he got a call from someone he hadn't properly talked to in years. He excused himself and took the call.  
"Pete?"  
"Mikaaaaaaay! How's it goin', mandude?"  
"Um," Of course he was drunk. "Not much. What's up?"  
"Oh y'know."  
Do I? "Pete, did you call for a reason?"  
"I missed your voice, dude. Um. Dunno. Probably wanted... answers. I don't know." Pete didn't sound very good. Mikey had heard him drunk before, but this... wasn't that.  
"Pete did you... did you take something?"  
"Dude, yeah. Um, yeah. That's why I called. I kind of... wanted to know something. Before I, um... go."  
Mikey's heart jerked into rapid motion, "Pete, what did you take?"  
"Like... a lot of antidepressants." Pete said dismissively. "Mikes, tell me something. What did it ever mean to you?"  
"Pete, Pete, fuck, how many?"  
"Mikey."  
"Pete." Mikey said firmly.  
"Dunno. Most of the bottle. Don’t worry, though, Mikes. Answer my question."  
"Pete, hang on. Stay awake, stay on the line, I'm coming over." Pete made a sound like a moan that Mikey assumed was agreeing, and he left. He got in his car and drove to Pete's.  
 **TWO HOURS BEFORE**  
When Mikey arrived at Pete's, he walked with a thunderous determination and asked Pete over the phone to let him in. Pete slurred that it was open. Mikey entered and called out for Pete. There was a sound from the living room, and he went there. Pete was on the couch with a notepad and a half empty bottle of vodka.  
 **TEN YEARS BEFORE**  
Pete, dazed from the alcohol and pills in his system, sat underneath Mikey Way, who was straddling his lap. He was gorgeous, really. The most perfect thing Pete had ever seen. Pete hated him for it. But he also loved him endlessly.  
Tonight was the last night of the tour. They were running out of time. Tomorrow was the last day and if one of them didn't do something, they would probably split and never be anything more than what they were now.  
"So... What now?" Mikey asked softly.  
Pete thought a moment. "Dunno, where do you think it should go?"  
Mikey shrugged, "where do you want it to-"  
"I love you." Pete blinked as what he'd said registered in his own mind. Shit.  
Mikey nodded slowly, then leaned down and kissed him. And it was the worst kiss he'd ever received. It was goodbye.  
 **ONE HOUR BEFORE**  
Mikey called 911 as he drove Pete to the hospital. He told the operator that his friend had overdosed and that he was driving him to LA County Hospital. When he hung up, Pete looked like he was going to fall asleep, so Mikey gently smacked his cheek a few times and turned up the volume on the radio to keep him awake. Pete groaned and clutched his stomach.  
When they reached the hospital, Mikey helped Pete into the ER and Mikey told the person at the desk that they had called ahead. The person nodded quickly and everything blurred in Mikey’s head as Pete was taken away for treatment and Mikey was told to sit down and he called Gerard and he was crying and Gerard would be there soon and Mikey was so, so afraid for the man that he still fucking loved.  
 **NOW**  
Mikey separated from Gerard and Gerard insisted they go somewhere to talk. Mikey agreed, saying that he could really use a smoke, and so they went to the designated area outside.  
“So what now?” Gerard asked as Mikey was lighting his cigarette. Mikey sucked in and removed the cigarette from his lips, snickering slightly at a memory of he and Pete on their Last Night, “I, uh. I don’t know. Gee… I have to tell you something.” He took a drag.  
Gerard cocked his head, “What’s up, man?”  
“When Pete called me… He asked me what it meant.”  
“What w- oh.” He nodded, “What’d you tell him?”  
“Nothing. I’d asked him before what he took and when he didn’t answer I kept asking until he did. Then… I never answered him.”  
Gerard nodded slowly and Mikey sucked greedily on the cigarette. He wished it was something that would make all this hurt less. “What were you thinking of answering?”  
“I don’t know. Gee, I honestly… I’m happy. But I’m not. I don’t think I ever could be if we weren’t… you know.”  
“Together?”  
“That.” Mikey ashed the cigarette and took a drag. “He was… We were too young. Too stubborn to be together for real. Now… I don’t know if anything’s changed. I just don’t know.”  
“Mikes, everyone who’s been depressed or suicidal has the potential to slip back into it. That doesn’t mean they haven’t grown as a person. When he… When you can. Talk to him.” Gerard sighed as Mikey took another drag.  
Mikey felt like shit for smoking around his brother, who’d stopped years ago, but he needed it so bad he’d take out his own blackened lung and give it to Gerard if he needed it. “What do I say?”  
“Tell him what you feel. See how he feels. I swear it’ll be okay if you just talk it out.”  
Mikey exhaled smoke from his nose. The menthol stung. Everything hurt right now, though, to be fair.  
 **EIGHT YEARS BEFORE**  
It was best, Mikey learned, to drink alone when he was sad.  
When he drank too much, he became either very handsy or very sad. He swore he was doing it to relieve the sadness, but there was never really a way to tell which he would act as, so, he avoided other people's judgement altogether and skipped drinking with them. He only did drugs sometimes at parties, because though the reaction was nearly definite, he was wary of what was out there.  
Doing a line of coke off a coffee table at a house party in Beverly Hills, someone caught his eye. He stood up, shuddered at the kick of the drugs, and stepped forward. "Hey, stranger." He called at the familiar face.  
The face looked at him, expression freezing over. "Hey." Pete called back, making no move towards Mikey.  
Mikey took another step closer, a bit uncertain this time. "Pete Wentz." He rubbed his nose clean upon becoming self conscious. He took more steps, slowly. Pete looked as if he feared the impending closeness. Mikey's closeness, no less.  
"That's, uh, that's me. You look, er,"  
"I got lasik."  
"Yeah, that's it." Pete eyed him up and down. Mikey knew that look. He knew it damn well, and tonight... was going to be difficult.  
~~~  
Alicia.  
Mikey didn't, couldn't, care. Pete was here. Pete was kissing him, undressing him, pressing their hips together, pressing him against a wall…  
But it was over too soon.  
Pete.  
Mikey cared too much.  
Pete didn't care enough to know.  
 **NOW**  
Meagan and Mikey were locked in a stare down, sitting across from each other.  
“So,” Mikey said.  
“Hm.” Meagan affirmed.  
“Outside?”  
A nod in return. They got up and Mikey navigated her to the smoking area, because he needed it and knew she didn’t mind. She sat on the bench as he lit his sixth today. “Why did he do it?” She asked, causing him to almost burn his fingers when he flinched. He exhaled through his nose.  
“Didn’t say.”  
“What did he say?”  
“Antidepressants.” Mikey took a drag.  
“I know that. What else?”  
“Vodka.” He tried to sound casual.  
She scoffed. “Why’d he call you, not me?”  
Mikey took a drag and shrugged, “Haven’t talked... properly. In years.” Proper talking implied talking that didn’t lead into sex. But, to Meagan, it would just mean conversation that wasn’t the torturous small talk that took place at award shows and when they ran into each other in places other than parties and skeezy clubs.  
“You know something Mikey. You know you do. Tell me… please?”  
Mikey shrugged again, “Honestly, he deserves his privacy to be respected. Especially right now. But, if I was to say anything, it would be that he wanted answers as resolution to a… dispute. That we had years ago. He wanted a proper conclusion. Closure.”  
“What was the dispute?”  
“Couldn’t say.”  
She rolled her eyes, “you’re being very...”  
“Asshole-ish?” Mikey took a drag.  
“That too. I was going to say sneaky. Suspicious.”  
“Danger is my middle name.”  
Meagan rolled her eyes as he grinned at her devilishly.  
 **SIX YEARS BEFORE**  
Mikey didn’t know what married life was even supposed to mean. He loved Alicia, sure, but not… really. And he had a tattoo now to prove his un-love.  
As he entered the run-down club, he debated getting a drink. Maybe if he counteracted it with pills or something the sadness/horniness wouldn’t be an issue. But alas, he had no money with him. Whatever. He made his way through the crowd of people, pressed together like atoms in a solid mass colliding against each other. Someone grabbed him by the waist and rolled their hips against him, and Mikey was damned if he didn’t enjoy it a lot. “You shouldn’t just grab people like that, s’rude.” He called to the person behind him.  
“I didn’t just grab people.” The person said, and Mikey’s heart dropped to his stomach. He turned, and… fuck.  
“Pete.” He said, losing his breath.  
“Mhm.” Pete smirked. Mikey was still ridiculously close and couldn’t remember how exactly to move away. Did he even want to? Not really. But he was married… but… Pete…   
“Pete, I need to– come with me.” He took Pete’s hand and lead him through the crowd, Pete’s other hand still on Mikey’s waist.  
Mikey locked them together in the bathroom. “I’m married.”  
“I heard. I saw the ring last time. I see the,” He lifted Mikey’s wrist, “the goddamn tattoo. I know damn well that you’re married.”  
“Then why are you doing this?”  
“Me? Last I checked, you were the one who wanted to talk privately and never gave even the slightest resistance, even when you didn’t know it was me. For a married man, you’re awful loose with your vows.”  
Mikey sighed, “Pete, I… tonight… Alicia and I had a fight. That’s why I’m here. Wanted to blow off some steam, give her space. She’s so mad, man, I dunno. Shit’s confusing. I don’t… I don’t know if… don’t think... I love her.”  
“Yeah? Dude…” Pete frowned, seeming genuinely concerned for Mikey. Mikey looked lost. “Hey, shit, come here.” Pete wrapped his arms around Mikey in a hug. Mikey sighed, hugging back. He buried his face in Pete’s sweaty mop of hair. Christ. Physically, he hadn’t changed much, and that was sort of comforting.  
Mikey pulled away, enough to see Pete’s face. “Um, so.” He said at normal volume, which might as well have been quiet because of the volume from the rest of the club.  
Pete exhaled deeply, “Yeah?”  
“We should…”  
“Yeah.”  
Mikey stepped closer.  
“Oh.”  
“Oh?”  
“Yeah. You sure?”  
“Always.”  
Pete nodded, kissing him before he could realize the error in all of this. He wanted Mikey to be happy, and this wasn’t how to get there, but Pete was human, a shitty one at that, and he needed something to hold on to. If it wasn’t Mikey, all of Mikey, it could be club bathroom Mikey, cocaine Mikey, or Fourth of July Mikey. But he refused to take goodbye Mikey. Tonight was his night to remember.  
 **NOW**  
Mikey lit up again, alone now. He thought about the past. About the future. Well, about Pete, in those times. He wondered how those times he had run into Pete in the past would be different if they hadn’t split after Warped. And he would say that Warped Pete was his favorite, but every version of Pete that he met along the way was warped. He sighed, taking a long drag and coughing. He should really quit.  
But, not yet.  
Thinking about how to address Pete in the room when he was allowed in, Mikey checked his phone. He’d exchanged numbers with Meagan in case she got any updates and he was off somewhere, or vice versa. No messages, just his lock screen: He and Kristin. Shit, she was in the picture too. He should probably call her, as he hadn’t left a note or anything before leaving and he was usually home before she was.  
‘@ hospital, making sure a friend is ok.’ That was sufficient.  
‘What ??? r they ok? ?? What happened ????’ Okay.  
‘Pete Wentz OD’d, called me when it happened. had to take him to ER.’ His phone buzzed as he hit send, it was Meagan:  
‘They say he’s stable. I went in, he’s half asleep, but wants to see you. We really should talk, Mikey.’ He sighed, clicking his phone off so he could finish his cigarette and go back inside.  
 **ONE YEAR BEFORE**  
“It’s not fair, Mikey! To anyone! You’re fucking lying to everyone but me and I never wanted to know or take fucking part in all of this!” Pete shouted. Fucking, drinking, doing drugs, and keeping secrets just wasn’t enough for him anymore.  
“Nothing is fair! I don’t want to do this to anyone, believe me, but this is just how it ended up. And I can’t fucking… I can’t, anymore.” Mikey turned his head, wiping his eyes quickly.  
“What, so you’re done?”  
“I can’t… I can’t with Sarah, or you, or the drugs, Pete, I need to get clean, I need… I need a redo. Y’know? I need someone new, so I can fucking start over and fix myself.”  
“What, so you can fuck with them too? Waste years of their life giving them hope for something they keep telling themselves will work out that never fucking will? God, Mikey, I swear. Sometimes, I don’t even fucking know what you think. About damn near anything.”  
“Sometimes I wish I never met you. Things would be so much less complicated.”  
“Yeah, I’m sure your self-suppression would be much easier to maintain if you hadn’t done all that goddamn experimenting.” Pete spat.  
Mikey was silent for a moment. “You know that’s not what I meant.”  
Pete laughed. “Did I?! Fuck. Shit, I’m so glad you’re here to read my fucking mind, Mikeyway. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  
“Get out. Fucking… get the fuck out of here. I don’t want to see you anymore.”  
“Fine.” Pete stormed out. He didn’t even cry, not there. No, he waited until he was a few blocks away from Mikey’s house to breakdown, crushed on the pavement, fists scraping the sidewalk. No, he was okay. Tonight was going to be just fine.  
 **NOW**  
Mikey strolled back into the hospital like he had time to spare, like his lungs weren’t shriveling, time-lapse style. Meagan was talking to a nurse in the hall and he casually walked over to them. “Hey, can I…”   
The nurse looked to Meagan and Meagan nodded, “E27. He’s resting, but stay with him if he’s not awake and no one tells you to leave.”  
“Thanks.” Mikey said quietly and walked on. E27. He stood in the door, Pete was talking to his doctor. When the doctor walked towards him, Mikey stood straighter, as if he was going to ask something, then decided against it. The doctor raised an eyebrow and walked away. Mikey sighed.  
“I’m fine, thanks.”  
Mikey froze up inside, “Hey, uh, sorry.” He smiled politely, then bit his lip. Was that an okay thing to do? “Uh,” He stepped inside, “how are you? Your stomach, mentally…” He frowned, “Are you tired? Do you think you need to sleep? Have you been sleeping at all recently because–”  
“Mikey.” Pete stopped him. “I’m fine.”  
“Sorry, okay. What do you want to talk about?”  
“When I called you… You never answered my question.”  
“Pete, honestly, that’s not important right now. Please, focus on getting better and resting, I can tell you later.”  
“Mikey, it’s important to me. Please… it’s just gonna bother me if you don’t tell me.”  
Mikey hesitated, this was anything but ideal. He blurted out, “Meagan’s in the waiting room.”  
“I know, she came in.”  
“What if she hears?”  
“Mikey, I tried to kill myself a few fucking hours ago. Do you think I really care about consequences right now?”  
That was a fair point, and Mikey knew personally. “But I care.”  
“You don’t. You just feel guilty.”  
“If I were guilty, would I still be here?”  
“Here or here?”  
Mikey shrugged, “Both.”  
Pete sighed, “I feel that.” He muttered. “But I still want to know.”  
“Can’t I tell you later?”  
“Now or never, Mikeyway.”  
Mikey groaned, “Pete, 10 years. I... love you, okay? And it's taken me 10 years to fucking tell you that. And... shit." He laughed, realizing his eyes were getting glassy. He rubbed them dry quickly. "I fucking suck, and I should've told you back then, because now... what the hell are we supposed to do? But I guess better late than never. I don't fucking know." He dropped his head. "I'm sorry doesn't even begin to... ugh." He wiped his eyes again.  
Pete sighed, nodded, and stared at the endless beige sheets. "Look, okay, there is... something, and I don't know if you'd be up for it, but. Maybe, all of us, could, y'know, be together. Like, in a relationship."  
"So, polygamy?"  
"No, it's actually called polyamory. Like, the thing is that everyone is included, or knows and approves, so it's not like what we did before."  
Mikey nodded slowly. "And how do we... suggest this? To our girlfriends?"  
"We just ask. I've been recommended two weeks in inpatient treatment, and I'm gonna do that, because... I'm not good. I'm really not good. So now is the time I guess. They're keeping me here overnight before i get moved."  
Pete sounded like his thoughts were really disorganized, and Mikey couldn't blame him. He liked Pete's idea, because he really did love Kristin, but he also really loved Pete. And Pete... well. However, Kristin knew about Mikey's past, and Mikey didn't know what Meagan knew. All he wanted was for this to work so he wouldn't have to cut off someone he loved so much.  
"Okay. Let's... try."  
 **ONE YEAR LATER**  
Meagan and Pete sat together in the living room.  
"I can't believe you picked Scott Pilgrim again." Meagan smiled.  
"Hey, you know you love that movie." Pete laughed. "At least you're not on popcorn duty."  
Meagan laughed, and Mikey yelled defensively from the kitchen.  
He emerged a moment later with a large bowl of popcorn. "Listen, I can eat this whole thing, I don't have to give you any."  
Meagan pouted and Pete reached out, making grabby hands. For the popcorn, of course. Mikey took a seat on the other side of Pete and handed Pete the bowl, because he was in the center. Pete took the bowl and started the movie.  
Kristin had been skeptical. She had tried to be with them. Even just with Mikey. But she had found that it just wasn't what she wanted. She was happy now, though, a fiancé and her dream job.  
Of course Mikey missed her, but now he had a fulfilling relationship and his past wasn’t haunting him. It was curled up next to him, holding his hand, and pressing a kiss to his temple. And every day, he felt the fire that he felt on that Fourth of July ten years ago.


End file.
